


Drop Me In The Water

by nothing_rhymes_with_ianto



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2013-05-27
Packaged: 2017-12-13 04:24:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothing_rhymes_with_ianto/pseuds/nothing_rhymes_with_ianto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Joly is convinced to go swimming and realizes how great his friends are.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Drop Me In The Water

**Author's Note:**

> For Joly Appreciation Day on tumblr. Also blatant use of a Disney movie line. Props if you know which one it is and which movie it’s from.

Really, he shouldn't have been surprised when Bahorel and Feuilly had knocked on his door and told him what they were doing. He wouldn't have come if Bossuet's face hadn't brightened the way it had as he ran to grab their swim trunks and towels. He had given in with a sigh and Feuilly had patted his shoulder, proclaiming that he'd love it. Which is why he was out here, standing on a little stone wall that separated the little river from its banks.

"Are you sure this water's sanitary? It looks rather questionable to me."

"Jolllly, you bum, where's your sense of excitement?"

"At home where it's safe and not disease-ridden." Joly frowned again at the river water. "I don't know..."

"Geronimooo!" Grantaire ran past them, stripped down to his shorts, and flung himself into the water, tucking his legs up and coming down with tidal wave crash. The cannonball's spray soaked Joly and Bahorel quite thoroughly. Bahorel clapped him on the back.

"Well, I guess that means you're going in now."

Joly watched as the fighter raced to the edge and dove off, his body coming down only feet away from Grantaire, who laughed, spluttering, when the cannonball's shock wave hit him.

"Come on, Joly!" Courfeyrac called out. "It'll be fun, and you'll be fine."

Bossuet was floating lazily on his back in the water, and he raised a hand to wave. "Joly, come on in! You're already wet, love, what could it hurt?"

Joly could have listed a hundred things it could hurt, but his friends were all grinning at him happily, so he sighed and stripped off his shirt, inching into the water with hesitation.

"It's cold!"

"What did you expect?"

His answer got lost somewhere between the "Hiyaaah!" that was screamed in his ear and the hands clamping on his shoulders to pull him under the water. He came up, spluttering, in time to see Grantaire dart away.

"You'll pay for this!" Shoving his dripping hair out of his eyes, he dove back under the water, swimming as fast as he could towards Grantaire. The artist was quick though, and laughed at him as he swam plenty of feet away. Joly found himself laughing, too.

"Hang on! Hang on!" Bahorel yelled, grabbing Grantaire's leg as he passed and yanking him over. "Chicken fight!"

Everyone drifted to the shallower edge where their feet could touch the ground. Grantaire climbed up onto Bahorel's shoulders, and after much prompting and wheedling, Joly got up onto Bossuet's.

Feuilly and Combeferre leaned over Combeferre's waterproof watch, yelling "GO!" when the minute struck. Bossuet and Bahorel rushed at each other, arms locked around the legs of their partners. Joly and Grantaire grabbed at each other's arms, laughing and grunting as they tried to knock the other off his perch. Joly didn't work out like Grantaire and Bahorel, but he often forgot about his natural strength. It surprised him now, as he met Grantaire's shoves with nearly equal forces of his own.

"This-- isn't-- fair--" Joly ground out as he pushed against Grantaire's straining arms. "You-- box-- with Bahorel-- every-- week--"

"Not to mention all the barfights," Bossuet added unhelpfully. He patted Joly's thigh and tightened his grip. "Come on, Joly! You can do it!"

The fight, of course, ended with Grantaire finally knocking Joly off his perch, and Joly bringing Bossuet down into the water with him when he couldn't get his leg free. Grantaire flung his hands into the air in triumph and invited the next contestant to battle the champion. This meant that Joly and Bossuet were in charge of the timer, yelling out encouragements and time marks and jumping up and down with the watch held between them. Joly found himself grinning so hard his cheeks hurt. This was a different kind of fun than he was used to, but he was loving it. The adrenaline, the excitement, the friendship. He watched his friends wrestle in the water and laughed out loud for no reason. Bossuet joined him, and they laughed until they fell down and sat in the shallows with the watch still between them, giggling at their friends.

The game of chicken ended with Grantaire as undefeated champion, even as Courfeyrac chased him around the river in circles, accusing him of cheating. Then there was a cannonballing contest, which Bahorel won to no one's surprise. And when that broke up, they paddled around in the water, drifting and talking and occasionally instigating splash fights.

And when the light started to dim and the heat went away, they dragged themselves out onto the riverbank to dry off. Joly looked around at the ridiculous group toweling off around him and realized how good they were for him. He hadn't thought about germs or illnesses or anything like that all day. Bossuet looked at him and grinned; it seemed someone else had realized that as well.

"Thanks, guys," Joly said to Feuilly and Bahorel, who were swatting each other with towels a few feet away. "Really."

"No problem." Bahorel replied with a smug expression. "I knew you could do it."

"Do what?"

"Have fun without being so paranoid. You just needed a little shove."

Joly conceded his point with an eyebrow raise and a nod. He supposed Bahorel was right. He only needed a shove and the distraction of his friends.


End file.
